Fertile transmigrant farms turn to dust

Fertile transmigrant farms turn to dust

The Jakarta Post, Maliana, East Timor

The Balinese farmers who were once settled in Tunubibi, East
Timor, would probably faint if they had the chance of visiting
the land that used to be theirs.

The one-time transmigration site, which covers a fertile area
of 1,000 hectares in Tunubibi, a village four kilometers north of
Maliana near the border with West Timor, has now been all but
abandoned.

Ruins of transmigrants' houses devastated in the 1999 campaign
of terror following the referendum that gave East Timor
independence are a reminder of the tragic ending of the great
undertaking to lift people from poverty and to build a strong
multiethnic nation.

The site is strategically located on a highway where UN
peacekeeping forces from Japan are stationed in the south and
those from Australia in the north. The troops make themselves
more useful by building and upgrading roads.

Lining one side of the street are small wooden houses built
near the ruins of the destroyed houses. The occupants are locals
who were resettled there from the neighboring districts of
Bobonaro, Balibo and Maliana.

Unlike the Balinese, who fled their homes for their dear
lives, the locals managed to come out of hiding when security and
order had been restored.

The locals and Balinese, 50 families each, were moved to the
area in 1982. Each family was entitled to one hectare of
irrigated land to the west of the road and another hectare of
non-irrigated land on the northern side.

"It was a success story at first," recalled village chief
Abilio Martin, pointing to the irrigated ricefields.

"The Balinese could harvest rice twice a year. But now,
farming depends solely on when the rain falls because the
irrigation dam built in 1983 has burst and the government has no
money to rebuild it," he said.

The land on both sides of the road has turned into a vast arid
patch of scrubland, which is turning reddish now that the dry
season has set in.

In the former resettlers' housing complex is a disheartening
view.

Houses have been reduced to heaps of rubble. Even a pura
(minor Hindu temple) Surya Arcana Lingga that Bobonaro regent
Guilherme dos Santos opened on Oct. 9, 1995 was also targeted.
Its stone structure remains intact but its wooden parts have been
looted.

Next to the temple is a burned out Protestant church, while a
Catholic chapel nearby has been renovated and is back in service.

"Rioters burned down Balinese houses and property on Sept. 4
when everybody in the village had gone into hiding," said
Martins. "The Balinese fled across the border and we locals went
up to the mountain."

Four hamlets in the area were totally destroyed, he said. "The
rioters, who came in large numbers also looted and ran away with
cows, chickens and anything they could carry."

A trail of murder was found in the complex. Two graves of
local proindependence resettlers were found deep in the
transmigration complex. The farmers had been murdered by the
Indonesian military-backed militia.

Local resettlers can't stop recounting the days when the
Balinese, nationally recognized for their farming skills,
spearheaded modern agriculture in the area. Then, the irrigated
land could produce as much as 80 quintals of unhusked rice per
hectare. The irrigation system allowed two harvests a year.

Now, the locals who have less knowhow in modern farming live a
poor life on the arid, unirrigated land. They grow tubers, corn
and fruit, such as mangoes, bananas and rambutan.

"We cannot grow anything until December when there will at
last be enough rainfall to plant crops," said 72-year-old Joao
Pareira Lopes, a local transmigrant from Bobonaro.

Although security and order have been restored to East Timor,
the trauma caused by the violence in 1999 still lingers on among
Tunubibi residents.

They said the militia living in refugee camps just across the
border had threatened to strike again once the international
peace-keeping force leaves.

"We feel secure now but we are not sure what will happen once
the PKF leaves," said Luis Maya, a 35-year-old local transmigrant
who has built his hut among the ruins of abandoned transmigrant
homes.